


Fall Deeper and Deeper (the sirens are singing your song)

by everyshootingstar



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, M/M, Past Character Death, Sea of Thieves AU, Sirens, mentions of cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 10:02:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20133637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everyshootingstar/pseuds/everyshootingstar
Summary: Of all the things, he thinks, of all thethingsto bethankfulfor, for all the things to come from beingsacrificed, having his own food, not having tosharethe food with anyone else is the greatest blessing to come out of this.The fish is warm and tasty and fills Ryan even as he sucks the last bits of flavor from his fingertips; he’s eaten alone many times in his life, but things taste better when flavored with freedom and as he settles back on the bed of palm leaves he’d made earlier, he thinks he could easily get used to this life.





	Fall Deeper and Deeper (the sirens are singing your song)

**Author's Note:**

> In June of last year, around the time Sea of Thieves became a thing AH played, I decided to write a fic. The draft is aptly titled 'gavin is a rainbow fish' because i was like 'ha ha what if gavin were a siren and ryan fell in love with him' 
> 
> As you can tell, it developed uh more. a lot more. oof. 
> 
> im kinda proud of this because _this_ was actually the first long form AH fic I ever wrote that wasn't silly and actually had a plot. 
> 
> There's more to it, but again, it's been sitting here since June of last year, I need to get it out of my WIPs before I go crazy with it or delete it in a fit of anger and self loathing. 
> 
> One day I'll come back and write an equally as long and Extremely Sad sequel to it, but uh if you're curious about how the story ends and don't wanna wait, DM me and I'll totally show you the screenshot of the end plot. 
> 
> A big and special thanks to both Alex and Mixx who held my hand during the early writing of this, who I constantly bugged with bits to get the Validation I needed to keep going. You two are the Best and I hope I didn't over hype it. 
> 
> Also, a huge hint to when I started writing it, it's in the style I used to write in on tumblr, with italic dialogue instead of quotation marks and an overabundance of commas and run on sentences, oop. Sorry bout that <3 Also! Title comes from Sleeping with Sirens' _Don't Fall Asleep at the Helm_
> 
> Without further ado, I present to you, over a year's hard work and patience <3
> 
> Come yell at me to write more on my [tumblr](https://alienhaus.tumblr.com).

Ryan considered himself to be highly educated and an important part of his crew, not many of them were able to read, maps or otherwise, and while he didn’t like to be _obvious_ about his intelligence, didn’t want to _rub it in_, he still felt some satisfaction when the Captain would call on him despite his low position as navigator.

He’d bartered with the best, the highest of class, speaking much more like a noble than a pirate—and while those of higher class _still_ looked down on him (for his accent was very reminiscent of his life in the South), he’d had more luck talking them out of their riches than any of his crewmates.

He wasn’t stupid though, wasn’t an idiot, and he _knew_ of the jealousy his crewmates carried, a lowly navigator picked up from a pillaged town only a year back already having more hold than even the first mate.

The thing was, Ryan didn’t _try_ to be that way, though he felt some sort of satisfaction about being the only one able to read a map properly, to do more than just guess a direction to sail in—he was good at navigating and reading and writing—all the things deemed unimportant by most.

It was only a matter of time before his service came to an end with his crew, he _knew_ with absolutely no uncertainty that his presence on the ship was only tolerated at most, he looked the other way during meal times when he’d end up with the worst of the food, the least, even prisoners were fed better than he—but he didn’t speak out about it, didn’t say _anything_ about the obvious mistreatment.

His share of gold went towards luxury while they were at a port, treating himself to a nice, quiet dinner, renting a room in a small inn on the outer banks of the island, somewhere away from the usual loud brothels and bars his crewmates frequented; it’s not that he didn’t have needs the same as them, he just chose to manage them in other ways.

After all, he couldn’t afford to let his guard down, not with a jealous crew nipping at his ankles.

-

The storm takes them by surprise, the entire day spent sailing towards their destination and not a cloud in the sky, no calls of dark clouds or choppy water, the wind mild—the first crash of thunder surprised them, sun still high above them, skies blue as the water below them.

_All hands!_ Calls one of the crew and Ryan rushes to aid with the sails, to let out slack as the winds pick up, carrying them further into the eye of the storm—he’s young and spry still, sure in his movements as he and two others angle the sails to half-mast.

The chaos descends as soon as the sky darkens, lightning and thunder a symphony above them, the Captain shouting commands out as he stands by the wheel, trying to keep the ship steady, even as the waves make themselves known, water pouring onto the ship.

Someone shoves a bucket at Ryan, demands he help shuck water out of the ship—not that several dozen buckets can offset the sheer amount of water pouring over the sides, sloshing around under everyone’s feet.

He’s always been lucky, ridiculously so, Ryan thinks to himself as lightning crashes overhead, striking one of the beams on the mast, he’s never been grievously injured, a few cuts by an enemy sword, but never anything _serious_.

There’s a cry from one of his crewmates, but there’s so much sound, so much _water_ that Ryan can barely hear but he feels the hands grab his body, pulling him.

He thinks he can make out something about a sacrifice, something about pledging him to Davy Jones in hopes of them passing freely through the storm and as he’s hassled towards the plank, he thinks of how stupid these men are.

_Urban legends_, he thinks to himself, the sharp tip of a sword at his back, _all fake_, and as he’s forced to the edge, he looks down at the water swirling under him and wonders if this is his punishment for getting on his captain’s good side, for being _dependable._

_Pirates aren’t dependable_, he thinks as he loses his footing when the ship lurches, and then he’s falling, falling, falling, the cheers of his crewmates loud in his ears before the ocean swallows him up.

-

He’s floating, he thinks, there’s no other word for it, even with his large vocabulary and high education, no other word comes to mind for the distinct feeling of _nothingness_ permeating his entire being—he’s not sure the time or place, everything fuzzy and vague.

_Come now, take it easy, love. You’ve been injured_.

The voice, it’s melodic and light, almost like _music_ and Ryan struggles towards consciousness, eager to see—but he can’t get his eyes to open no matter how hard he tries; he breathes in deep and shaky, lungs burning.

_Don’t do that, you’re going to hurt yourself again. _

The voice is chastising him now, and Ryan wishes he could open his eyes, he wants to see his savior, is he dead? Dying? He tries opening his mouth to ask but nothing comes out but loud, gasping sounds as if he’s drowning.

_Oh dear_, the voice says, and then there’s something soft and cool against his lips, something smooth resting on his cheek and Ryan smells salt and the sea and the sun and suddenly, _suddenly_ he can breathe again.

_Much better_, the voice sounds closer, lower now, and the smooth, cool presence on his cheek slides upwards towards his temple, resting there, _Come on love, I know you can do it_.

Ryan isn’t sure what’s being asked of him, but as he shifts, fingers scrabbling for purchase underneath him—there’s sand, he’s on a beach probably, maybe? He thinks, he _hopes_ he is and his brow furrows as he tries forcing his eyes open again.

His eyes burn and everything’s too bright, too _much_, and oh _god_ he’s going to be _sick_.

_Not the reaction I was hoping for_, the voice says and then there’s hands on him, forcing him to roll over onto his side as he loses what food he’d had in his stomach, and as he retches, one hand works circles along his back, over his shirt. _There, there_, comes a soothing whisper. _You’re fine now. _

It feels like hours before Ryan’s able to roll over again, landing with a soft noise of pain, his eyes firmly shut, _Where am I? _he asks, voice rough, throat raw. _Who are you? _

_Open your eyes first, _Comes the gentle reply, and then there’s another cool touch to his temple, _Things should be easier now_.

It doesn’t quite answer his question, but Ryan obliges, slowly opening his eyes and thanking whatever god may be listening that it’s easier this time and as he turns to look towards his savior, his breath leaves him for an entirely different reason.

They’re _breathtaking_ and entirely too beautiful with tanned skin that shimmers in the sunlight—bare chested with a smattering of—_scales? _

Ryan blinks several times, eyes widening in surprise as the rest of his savior finally comes into focus—half sitting in the water is something he’s only heard tales of; half human, half fish.

_I can understand your thoughts, love_, his savior says, sitting up some, there’s a shimmer coming from the scales along their chest and down their sides, over the hips, disappearing into a _gorgeous_ tail, a blue color that shimmers in purples, pinks and greens as the sun catches it.

_I uh, sorry? _Ryan says, for lack of anything else. _I’m not…am I dreaming? _

A laugh, soft and melodic, _Oh aren’t you lovely,_ they say, _I’m not quite a fish, love. Much prefer a siren, really. _A grin, and Ryan sees the sharp teeth, the scales along their cheeks and up into sandy brown hair. _I’m called Gavin, and you? _

Ryan stutters through some half syllables of his name, before finally managing to force it out properly, holding his hand out automatically, even though he and Gavin are much past those sorts of pleasantries.

Gavin, for the most part, looks amused and reaches out, scales catching the light, and Ryan has to bite back a surprised noise as their hands meet, Gavin’s fingers are webbed, nails sharp on the ends, but surprisingly gentle, soft where their palms meet.

_It’s nice to meet you, lovely Ryan_, Gavin says, pulling back and Ryan blinks slowly, slightly mesmerized by the way Gavin’s eyes seem to change shape and color with each breath.

_Likewise,_ he stutters back, feeling completely out of his element, _I uh, thank you for saving me? _

Gavin throws their head back and laughs, _Oh Ryan_, although fond, sounds a little sad, _Not all sirens are cruel. _

-

Gavin disappears for the better part of the afternoon, leaving Ryan to explore the island he’d washed up on; there’s a storm approaching from far off and so Ryan gets to work on building a shelter—something sturdy leaning against an outcropping of rocks; it won’t do much if the winds catch, but it’ll protect him from the rain and from the sun as he whittles at a piece of sturdy driftwood, fashioning up a makeshift spear so he can hunt properly for food.

For the most part, he’s self-sufficient, as far as hunting goes, finding meaty fish in the shallow waters isn’t that difficult and thankfully there’s enough stone lying around to create a small fire—and by the time he settles down for supper, he feels a deep exhaustion in his bones, body aching from the spill he’d taken off the ship.

There’s a makeshift plate he’d fashioned from more drift wood, and the scent of cooked fish turning over the fire makes his stomach rumble; and as he pulls it off the wooden spit, placing it across the plate, he realizes, a bit distantly, that he’s got the whole fish to himself.

He doesn’t have to _share_.

Of all the things, he thinks, of all the _things_ to be _thankful _for, for all the things to come from being _sacrificed_, having his own food, not having to _share_ the food with anyone else is the greatest blessing to come out of this.

The fish is warm and tasty and fills Ryan even as he sucks the last bits of flavor from his fingertips; he’s eaten alone many times in his life, but things taste better when flavored with freedom and as he settles back on the bed of palm leaves he’d made earlier, he thinks he could easily get used to this life.

-

An indeterminable amount of time later, Ryan hears laughter and a splash, an annoyed grunt of _Sea Sniffer_, _return me to my ship immediately_ and more laughter.

_Aye Cap’n, can’t do that I’m afraid, shouldn’t’a jumped in the water again, can’t always be y’personal skiff when ye decide to take a dip. _

Ryan’s on high alert, fingers closing around the pole of his spear, as long as the voices stay towards the shore, he should be fine, he thinks. He’s got a mean ache in his ribs and he doubts he could handle a fight today, or even tomorrow.

_Michael ‘n Jack are smart blokes, they’re probably on their way now, Cap’n. _

There’s silence then, and a sigh, _Aye,_ the other says tiredly. _One hopes, for my sanity, at least._

A laugh, _Don’t be so down, Cap’n, you enjoy my company. _

Ryan carefully moves towards the front of his shelter, peering between two large leaves—the sight before him almost comical; a shorter man with a large hat stands at the shore, clothes wet and sticking to his body; in front of him is _Gavin_, half in the water, grinning up at him brightly, the sun reflecting off the scales on their cheeks and throat in a way that makes Ryan feel weak.

_Ah! Yer not alone here, Cap’n, rescued a bloke yesterday, he should be around here somewhere as he has no crew. _

Ryan furrows his brow, just as the Captain laughs, _And how ye know this? _

Gavin scoffs, tail flapping against the water in an agitated manner, _Threw him overboard, Cap’n, heard chatter about sacrificin’ him to Davy Jones when they know damn well ol’ Davy don’t care. _

_I’m right here,_ Ryan finally speaks up, moving out of his hiding place as he ignores the thump of his heart against his ribs when Gavin’s entire demeanor lights _up_ at the sight of him, _Lovely Ryan!_

Ryan moves closer, spear poised by his side protectively, _What do you mean ‘Davy don’t care’? He doesn’t exist. _

The other man is shorter up close, Ryan realizes distantly, slightly less intimidating than he’d expected, but then again, Ryan’s stared down death and nothing short of a sea monster could make him fear right now, _Aye, Davy’s as real and you’n me. _He speaks, _They call me Captain Shortbeard,_ he introduces himself, resting his hand on the scabbard of his sword handing down at his side.

_Ryan,_ he says slowly, looking between Gavin and ‘Shortbeard’, _What do you mean, Davy Jones is real. _

Gavin flaps their tail, agitation coiled tightly in their limbs, _Davy Jones isn’t just an idea, he’s a damn menace, he is. Always sinking boats and causing madness, sailors lose their minds it’s because of his pull! _

Ryan blinks, digesting this information carefully, lowering his spear as he watches Gavin shift in the water, webbed fingers curling and uncurling under the small currents, _You seem bothered by it,_ he says slowly.

Gavin bunches their shoulders and that’s when Ryan notices the dangerous, sharp looking fins protruding out of skin at the spine and down the center of their back, and he thinks, vaguely, that Gavin looks sort of like some dangerous yet beautiful fish from the deep.

_He’s wrecked more boats than one can count, _Gavin says finally, rolling their shoulders to work out the tension, _Ye don’t even know what my kind do, do you, Lovely Ryan? _

Ryan carefully eases himself onto a rock, placing the spear down onto the sand, probably a bad idea with a strange pirate around, but for some reason, Ryan feels safe around Gavin, _I don’t. Until yesterday, I didn’t realize sirens even existed outside of legends. _

Gavin’s laughter is musical, light and easy and Ryan leans forward, as if drawn to it, _Oh lovely Ryan, you don’t fear my kind, do you? _They move forward, plastering themselves against the side of the rock he’s seated on, _My scales and tail and barbs don’t deter you from being close to me. _

The scales on Gavin’s skin catch the light and Ryan’s eyes follow the line up their arm to their elbow where several barbs protrude out of the flesh, colored an intimidating teal that fades into a warm blue with soft pink tips, the barb a sharp and stark black at the end, he swallows, _I’ve nearly died by my own crew just a day ago, nothing short of a megalodon will cause me to fear,_ he says quietly, _I could never fear something as beautiful as you are._

Ryan can tell his answer catches Gavin by surprise, the way the siren leans back, as if trying to find an answer, their eyes darting up towards Ryan’s eyes and then around, as if trying to figure him out.

_Sea Sniffer’s something to be a’fear’d, he’s battled Davy Jones himself! _Shortbeard cuts in and Ryan watches as a darkness settles over Gavin’s features again and the wind picks up around them, waves growing choppy against the shore

Gavin lifts a hand from the water, _Y’know Jeremy,_ they say, tone clipped, _Maybe I should have sent ye back to your ship, _and Jeremy’s outraged cry is cut off as Gavin waves, scales glittering in the light and suddenly, it’s just Ryan and Gavin on the beach.

_Where…did he go? _Ryan asks carefully, now wary.

Gavin just flops back into the water, floating on their back, _Aye, to the SS Prick, _they say, tail flicking lazily against the water, _Which is a good lesson on what we sirens do. _

Ryan narrows his eyes, watching Gavin and trying to valiantly ignore the way the scales clutter around Gavin’s navel and down towards where their tail starts, _Which is what exactly? Also, is his ship really named that? _

_Lovely Ryan,_ Gavin says, _Have you ever fallen from a ship? Have you ever found yourself in strange waters with no way to return home? _Their voice takes on a quiet sort of tone, almost whimsical, _We guide you home, lovely Ryan. To your ship, to the deep. We’re the ones in the water who carry you from harm’s way. _Gavin’s features morph into a dangerous sort of smile, sinister and all sharp teeth, eyes nearly glowing, _Or, we bring harm to you, we are the creatures of the deep, the legends you hear about at port. Helpful we are, but we never forget. If you cross us, we’ll come for you until you’re but a mere memory of time. _

He’s not sure what compels him, but Ryan leans forward, balancing one hand on the rock, _I’m still not afraid of you,_ he says, staring down at Gavin seriously, _I fear your power, but not because I fear that you’d use it against me, but of the chaos it could bring to those who wrong you. _

Gavin regards him with a thoughtful look, _And are you going to wrong me, Lovely Ryan? _

_I see no reason to cross you,_ Ryan says, watching the light play across the scales of Gavin’s cheek, drawn to the way their lips pull into a slow sort of smile, gentler now.

_Do you trust me? _

Ryan stares at the webbed hand offered towards him, following the thin peach colored skin between their fingers, eyes finding the sharp claws at the tips, and then he reaches out to rest his palm in Gavin’s, _I believe no harm will come to me,_ he answers honestly, and suddenly he’s off equilibrium, being pulled into the water that’s suddenly a too vivid reminder of only just a day ago.

He thinks vaguely, that a pirate with a fear of water is about as stupid as believing in urban legends, and a pirate grasping the hand of an urban legend is even stupider.

_Breathe, Lovely Ryan,_ Gavin’s voice whispers in his subconscious, _No harm will come to you as long as I’m here. _

Ryan gasps, swallows a mouthful of sea water and _breathes_, fingers tightening around Gavin’s.

Gavin moves close to him, barbs brushing against his skin, doing no more than catching on his shirt for a moment as he’s steadied, one hand cradling his jaw, tilting his head upwards before lips press to his, only brief, and suddenly, the rushing water in his subconscious quietens, reduced to nothing but a slow, quiet drip.

_Breathe,_ Gavin repeats, voice echoing, low and melodic in his mind, _I’ve got you. _

Ryan finally opens his eyes, the salt water burns only for a moment before he’s accustomed to it, and as he looks around, he realizes they’re under the sea. _Where are we going? _He asks, turning to look back at Gavin, who looks at home, floating beside Ryan, barbs bobbing around them as if they were living—Gavin looks even more breathtaking under water, Ryan decides silently.

Gavin’s smile is sharp and playful, and in a flurry of color, Ryan’s left alone, _Follow me, Lovely Ryan!_

It’s somewhat of a struggle to keep up with Gavin, but he does well enough, even if Gavin slows several times to ensure he doesn’t get lost, and by the time Ryan reaches Gavin, the siren looks proud, _happy_ and Ryan only has a moment to wonder before arms are around him and he’s eased back to the surface.

_You’ve kept up far better than anyone else, _Gavin comments casually, brushing a hand against Ryan’s cheek, allowing him to breathe properly again, _There were pirates coming to the island you washed up on, I couldn’t tell their intention as they’re not close enough, so I’ve relocated you somewhere safer, _they murmur, _I won’t let anything happen to you, Lovely Ryan. _

Ryan breathes in loudly, shakily, _Thank you_, he says, and he’s not sure if it’s the adrenaline or the way his head’s rushing after swimming a large distance so quickly, but as he takes Gavin’s hand in his, he throws caution to the wind and presses a kiss to the palm.

Gavin’s eyes are wide, pupils nothing but tiny slits and Ryan thinks he may have messed up, but then Gavin’s pressing in closer, smooth palms cupping his jaw—there’s something magnetic between them, charged, and Gavin’s watching him, slowly leaning in—

_Oh bollocks, _Gavin swears softly, smiles apologetically at Ryan as their hands slide down to rest on Ryan’s shoulders, _I must go,_ they whisper, glancing down at Ryan’s mouth, _I’m being called by the sea,_ they breathe in, sliding their hands down Ryan’s arms until they’re no longer touching.

Ryan misses the warmth and closeness of Gavin immediately, _Go, _he says gently, _I’ll be here when you get back. _

Gavin smiles, bright and blinding and then, they’re slipping under the water, disappearing almost immediately.

-

Gavin doesn’t return for several days but Ryan doesn’t worry, after all, he’s a free man now and with nothing much to do, he’s got time.

And so he waits.

-

The fourth night, he’s woken by something sad and as he sits up in his makeshift bed, head clearing, he realizes it’s a _song_, one of mourning.

He doesn’t want to be _too_ hopeful, but he gathers his clothes and heads out of his hut, down towards the beach—and _goodness_, there’s Gavin, leaning against an outcropping or rocks, _singing _to the sky.

Gavin looks sad, worn down and when Ryan looks closer he sees there’s a scratch across their chest, angry and red and immediately, he’s concerned, _Gavin_, he says as he moves closer, as the song trails off to a haunting end.

_Oh, hello Lovely Ryan, did I wake you? _Gavin sounds tired and off, and Ryan wonders if sirens are capable of human emotions.

Ryan licks his lips, seats himself on the rock by Gavin, _I was awake,_ he says in answer. _You’re injured. _

Gavin looks down at their chest and then up at the sky, sigh sounding wobbly and raw, _Oh this is nothing. The pain means nothing to my kind. _They rest their head against the rock, looking up at Ryan, _Sorry I was gone so long, Lovely Ryan. _

He reaches down, hesitant and careful carding his fingers through Gavin’s hair slowly, _I told you I’d be here when you got back,_ he murmurs, _You were singing, _he continues, _Something sad. _

_I’m too attached to damn humans,_ Gavin says, mournfully, angrily, squeezing their eyes closed tightly, _Someone I knew, someone very close to me was killed by the megalodon today and that brings up too many memories. _

Ryan pauses, carding his fingers through Gavin’s hair a few more times, and as he watches Gavin, that’s when he notices that their scales seem less shimmery, duller, even, _Do you want to talk about it? _He asks.

Gavin’s quiet for a while, chest rising and falling quickly, before they finally speak, _I loved a human once, a beautiful, fierce pirate named Megan. _

Ryan’s no fool, and even from this angle he can see the dark look on Gavin’s face, reminiscent to the one they’d had when Shortbeard had mentioned Davy Jones, _She must have been something amazing, _he says softly, _To catch the attention of a fierce creature such as you. _

The waves crash against the rocks, the current gentling out a little and Gavin leans further into Ryan’s touch, _Aye,_ they whisper, voice sad and melodic, _But even the brightest and greatest fall. _

He doesn’t say much after that, just keeps carding his fingers through Gavin’s hair, fingers brushing the smooth scales around their temples and Gavin sighs, eyes closing.

_She fell overboard, much like you, Lovely Ryan, except I couldn’t save her, and when Davy got his cold, greedy hands on her, it was too late—you see, he curses those who hold importance to us; a cruel, cruel dictator to us sirens he is. _

Gavin pauses, takes a deep breath.

_Your urban legends speak of sirens who grow legs and walk on land, but you see, we can never leave the ocean, we are bound here by our biologies, by **him** and once we get too close to a human, things are never good. _

When Gavin looks up at Ryan, his heart beats painfully against his ribcage at the torn up, _devastated _look on their face.

_We are not meant to mingle with your kind, and yet I am here, with you right now. _Gavin reaches a hand up, the sharp tips of their nails dragging slowly along Ryan’s cheek, _There is a pain in my chest that has nothing to do with the wound, _they utter_, And a fire in my stomach that tells me to fight for this, just as I fought for the fearsome Turney all those years ago. _

Ryan swallows, turning his head just in time to press a barely-there kiss to Gavin’s palm, _What happened to her? _He asks softly, curiously, his own heart clenching painfully at how _bared_ and _wounded _they look, holding themselves up against the rock like a last lifeline.

_Aye,_ Gavin murmurs, voice going sad, somber now, _Her curse, my own stupidity letting myself get too close to her, she was banished to the darkest depths, to live out all eternity as the ocean’s most fearsome creature. _

As Ryan holds his breath, waiting, he feels fear creep into his bones, the way Gavin’s barbs droop, the way their hair hangs limply in their face, it all speaks of horrible, _horrible_ things.

_The Megalodon, a fearsome creature indeed, imbued with the soul of Davy himself and one Megan Turney; when Davy gets a hold of a human, his essence drives them mad, absolutely insane, and once he’s broken them, he infuses their soul with a piece of his and grows a terrible, **terrible** creature—something out of nightmares. _Gavin pauses, voice shaking a little as they continue, _She was always terrified of sharks, even someone as brave and fierce as she, everyone has a fear and Davy uses that fear, nurtures it until it grows and imbues a captured soul. _

Whatever Ryan was expecting, it wasn’t that, however, and he finds himself needing to be closer to Gavin suddenly, a bone deep need that has him slipping off the rock and into the water, arms wrapping around Gavin as he propels himself forward, pressing firmly against them. _She’s the reason you’re so upset now,_ he whispers into the fluttering fins surrounding Gavin’s shoulders, _Having to face someone who was so close to you, who now doesn’t remember you. _

Gavin makes a sort of upset noise, a low trill and then arms wrap around Ryan, tight, holding him there—Ryan feels the barely there tremor to Gavin’s limbs, _It’s difficult, watching the one you loved, tortured for life, a **monster**, something she wouldn’t have ever wanted, all because of my affections for humans. _

Ryan smooths his hand down Gavin’s back slowly, rubbing careful, comforting circles, he doesn’t know what to say, hopes physical comfort is enough for now, until he can find the right words.

_Perhaps the most difficult part of this, there’s no end for her, natural or otherwise. No pirate can kill her, no creature can free her, she’s doomed. For all of eternity now. _

Gavin breaks then, like a thread, something just _snaps_ and they go limp against Ryan, tears soaking the collar of his shirt as the ocean around them grows choppy again, waves crashing against the rocks once more and Ryan would fear being carried away by the current, but Gavin holds tighter, keeps him close.

-

Eventually, they part ways, but not before Ryan wipes at the salt water tears on Gavin’s cheeks, not before promising him that no matter what, he’ll be here for Gavin.

_I’m wary about pledging my allegiance to man again, but as you are no man, here I am, _Ryan murmurs into the air between them, words charged, _I swear on the graves of my ancestors, on all that I am, I am yours. My allegiance is yours and if the time comes, I will fight for you and your honor, for however long I may live._

It’s not as binding as a blood contract or a soul exchange, but it seems to shake Gavin to the core, eyes wide, pupils blown, _Lovely Ryan,_ they croon, voice a soft echo around them. _You’re pledging allegiance to a monster. _

Ryan doesn’t back down, hands cupping both of Gavin’s cheeks, _Anyone can be a monster if given the motivation,_ he murmurs, _I’ve known monsters, I’ve seen the horrors they do, and you, Gavin, are **not** a monster. _

He can tell Gavin doesn’t believe him, but he stands by his convictions; he is, after all, an honorable man. 

-

The next time Ryan sees Gavin is only a day later, and this time, they’re dragging a red headed man to the beach—and Ryan wonders if this is one of the humans Gavin is fond of as well or if it’s just some stranger.

For the most part, Ryan’s accepted his new life of living on an island; besides fancy boarding schools as a child and young adult, he never really had a proper home, never really want for much—and living with his previous crew had taught him plenty of survival. It helps when you have someone watching over you from the seas.

_Lovely Ryan, _Gavin says, as Ryan steps out of his hut, and Ryan’s pleased to see the color’s returned to Gavin’s scales, their fins no longer drooping; _Awake with the sun again, I see. _

Ryan hums quietly, he’d found a coconut tree last night and a chest with a dull knife he’d sharpened up while his fish has been cooking and so he settles on the beach near a rock, _I see you’ve brought a guest,_ he says in reply as he works to crack open the coconut. _One of you friends? _

Gavin smiles brightly, blindingly, fins puffing out, _This is Michael,_ they say, _He’s part of Jeremy’s crew; s’always best to let them wake up before dumping them back on their ship. _

He can appreciate that sentiment, it’s probably less jarring that way, _Are you hungry, Gavin? _He asks, making a triumphant noise as the knife cuts through the hard-outer shell, _I found a coconut tree just over there, it’s not a luxurious breakfast but I’m happy to share. _

Gavin’s laugh is gentle and happy, the scales bunching up around their eyes, _Oh Lovely Ryan, I appreciate your offer, but much like the being my soul has taken shape as, I feast mainly on flesh, and as such, a simple coconut wouldn’t be enough to sate my hunger. _

Ryan stares over at Gavin, watches them for a moment, _So, fish, then? _He asks carefully. _I’ve gotten decent at catching fish, if you…_ he trails off, unsure if he’s overstepping any boundaries by offering a siren food.

Gavin smiles, teeth razor sharp and wide, _Though you have nothing to worry about, **flesh** doesn’t only mean that of fish or other game, _they say, _But human too. Some of us find it delectable, something easy to come by. _

_Well,_ Ryan says after several long moments of silence, _I’m not going to murder someone for your enjoyment, though if I ever **had** to, then you’re free to feast on them as you please,_ he begins, speaking around a mouthful of coconut, _But if you ever want fish, I can offer that freely. _

For the most part, Gavin seems _happy_ by the offer, going as far as ducking their head in an almost bashful manner, before their smile evens out into something less dangerous, _I appreciate your kindness, Lovely Ryan_.

-

Michael wakes shortly after Gavin disappears, called away by a stranded sailor once more; he seems agitated, irritable and Ryan watches quietly as he sits up and shake sand from his hair.

Only when Michael makes to stand (not that he gets far, falling back down into the sand with a pitiful sounding _oof_ when his legs give out) does Ryan reveal himself.

_Gavin was called away to help someone,_ he starts, and immediately Michael turns to look at him, a glare settling over his features, _They’ve asked that you stay put until they get back. _

_And who be ye to tell me what to do? _Michael speaks, voice low and rough but he waves off the water Ryan offers, _I don’t know ye, nor do I trust ye enough to drink from that. _

Ryan licks his lips, takes a step back to give Michael more space, _My name is Ryan,_ he says, _I’m a friend of Gavin’s. _

Michael sneers at that, _Aye, well, keep ye distance, we’ll see what he has to say once he returns. _

-

Ryan feels almost bad for not offering Michael any fish, but he’d promised to keep his distance, besides, if he were in the poor kid’s shoes, he wouldn’t accept anything from a strange man on an island, anyway and so as Ryan carefully turns the fish over the fire, cooking it evenly, he watches.

Watches the way Michael paces the shore, mouth turned down into a frown, arms crossed behind his back.

He wonders what’s taking Gavin so long.

Only as the sun sets and Ryan’s fish finishes cooking does Gavin return in a flurry, scales catching in the diming sunset as they surface by the shore, _Michael!_

Michael jumps at that, stomping over to the rocks, _Took ye long enough, _he says, hands on his hips as he stares down at Gavin. _Ye havin’ a laugh, Sea Sniffer? _

Ryan plates the fish and moves closer to the shore, settling himself down so he can watch, biting back a laugh at the way Gavin’s face scrunches up at the name, _Nay,_ Gavin says, _Got called away, y’see, as I told Jeremy, I’m responsible for a lot of people, not just you three. _

Michael huffs, _Like the one that calls himself Ryan, aye? _He says, _The Cap’n told me you’d grown attached to someone, couldn’t believe it until I ended up here. _Michael drops down onto the rock, legs hanging over the edge, _Ye sure ye can trust him? _

He feels as if he shouldn’t be listening in, and so he does he best to tune it out, focusing on tearing the meat from the thin bones, making two neat piles of bone and fish.

_Aye, I’m sure, Michael, _Gavin murmurs, voice low, sort of similar to the rough growl of Michael’s, _Ye’ve got nothing to worry about here. Can handle me’self, _they say. _Ryan’s good people. _

Out of the corner of his eye, Ryan can see that Michael doesn’t look too convinced, but he refuses to let that get to him, and as he tosses the fish bone into the water, he hears Michael sigh, a low, _Send me back, Sea Sniffer_ echoing in the night.

-

_I’ve noticed you speak differently around others,_ Ryan says a few days later, sitting down on his usual rock as Gavin floats in the water, fins lax, arms crossed behind their head as their tail lazily moves to keep them afloat.

_Oh? _Gavin asks, _What do you mean, Lovely Ryan? _

Ryan drags a stone against the dulling blade of his knife as he mulls over his next words, _With Michael, and even that other one, Shortbeard, you spoke more like they do, but when you speak with me, you speak…similarly to me? _

Gavin seems confused at first, staying quiet for a bit until they can find the words, _Well, we sirens emulate the way we’re spoken to. Not all of us understand human languages, but we can fake it pretty well. I just happen to be one that can understand what English speaking humans say. _They pause, _And so I speak like this, because this is how you sound, to me. _

Ryan looks up, looks over at Gavin thoughtfully, _You sound like someone from the British Isles. _He says, _Which is odd, considering I’m from nowhere near there_.

Gavin just laughs and flops their tail against the surface of the water, _All you humans sound the same to me, love. I just make it easier for you to understand me._

-

Somewhere along the way, Ryan loses count of the days he’s been on the island, choosing instead to focus on stockpiling food and finding creative ways to upgrade his hut as each day passes, and though he knows if other pirates were to come here, Gavin would whisk him away somewhere else, he still sets traps around his hut, _just in case_.

Whatever time he doesn’t spend with Gavin, he spends the rest exploring the island, finding alternative food and water sources deeper in the trees; several abandoned treasure chests with gold and weapons and though he doesn’t have much use for any of it, he still packs away some gold in a bag and keeps a mean looking sword for himself before hiding the rest of it again.

He gets to know Gavin more, and they talk whenever the other isn’t busy rescuing sailors or damning them to the deepest parts of the ocean—more than once Gavin’s come back with a feral sort of look in their eye, fins fanned out dangerously; though not once have they offered to attack him, in _fact_, Gavin seems to _calm_ in his presence.

-

_Not many people find my song to be appealing,_ Gavin says once day out of the blue, _I’m basically royalty and my song sounds bloody ridiculous. _

Ryan doesn’t look up from where he’s carefully separating bone and fish, _Bullshit,_ he says, _Your song sounds fine to me. _He pauses, _And what do you mean, **royalty**? _

Gavin swims closer, laying themselves against the rock Ryan’s sitting on, reaching out to casually pluck a piece of fish from the plate, _Means what it means, Lovely Ryan. The blood coursing through me is that of a long line of what you humans would call royalty, though in my world, I just have a stronger influence, song’s supposed to be sweeter. _They press their lips together, _Unluckily, I’m the worst at luring sailors into the sea with my song. Not an easy feat, mind you. _

Ryan finally looks up from the fish, tossing bone back into the ocean, _Oh? I thought you were all about helping sailors out when they get into trouble, not lure them into trouble. _

Gavin smiles up at Ryan, friendly yet slightly on edge,_ We’re all victims of our nature, Lovely Ryan. The way we’re taught in our pods. Sometimes all you know is a lure. _

He doesn’t say anything, just holds the plate of fish down to Gavin, offering it to them and Gavin takes several pieces of the fish, eating them slowly, _Are you scared of me now, Lovely Ryan? _

Ryan waits until Gavin’s had his fill before he starts on the rest of the fish, _Slave of your nature or not, I know you’d never hurt me. _

Gavin just stares up at Ryan, watching him with a look on their face that Ryan can’t quite describe, and then, there’s a flash of teeth, a slight quirk of lips and Gavin disappears under the current in a flurry of color and fins.

-

The very next day, Gavin appears, pushing a large fish carcass to the shore, and Ryan, curious, heads over to them, wondering silently, what they’re doing.

_For you, Lovely Ryan,_ Gavin says once he’s in hearing range, _Caught it myself—if you’d like, we can share it,_ their voice sounds hopeful almost as they peer up at Ryan from the water.

Ryan’s surprised, floored almost, because the fish is _large_, with more than enough meat for two to get filled up on, but, perhaps what surprises Ryan the most is Gavin’s offer to _share_ it. _Of course,_ he stutters out, stumbling over the syllables. _Of course, Gavin, let me just…_ he trails off, moving closer to grab the fish, pulling it the rest of the way onto the shore as Gavin heaves their self, half out of the water, to sit on the shore, tail floating in the shallow pool.

He leaves almost immediately to gather his knife and sharpening rock, two driftwood plates and some stones and sticks for a firepit by the beach; the sun’s still high when Ryan settles by the fish, carving into it, he almost wishes he had a way to preserve some of the meat, knowing there’d be more than enough for the two of them, plus leftover.

Gavin, though, watches Ryan silently, half leaned against a rock with a curious tilt to their head—and when Ryan notices, his hand slips and he shoves the knife in deeper than he’d meant, _What? _He asks, suddenly nervous.

_Lovely Ryan,_ Gavin speaks, voice soft and fond, _Has anyone ever told you that you are absolutely **beautiful**_?

Whatever Ryan was expecting Gavin to say, it wasn’t _that_, and so he flounders a bit, surprised at the boldness of their words, _No? _he says carefully. _Not many people in my life. Pirates and such, sure. But no one…else. _

_Oh?_ Gavin asks, one hand resting in the sand as he leans closer, staring Ryan down, _Now that’s a shame—you deserve the world, Lovely Ryan. _

Ryan sucks in a sharp breath, staring at Gavin, _I don’t…_ he trails off, unsure. _What are you trying to say, Gavin? _

(He’s so stupid, so, so _stupid_, he shouldn’t be getting himself worked up over this there’s _no way _Gavin thinks of him—)

_Come here, Lovely Ryan_, Gavin whispers, _Closer, please_.

Ryan drops the knife to the sand, steps over the fish and moves into the shallow water almost as he’s being _lured_ but he knows different, there’s a charge between them, something _strong_ that’s not entirely one sided.

Gavin’s palm is cool and smooth against his cheek, their other hand resting on his waist as Ryan kneels in the shallow water before them.

_Lovely Ryan,_ Gavin speaks softly, thumb brushing across the apple of his cheek, _Lovely, **beautiful** Ryan. _

Ryan breathes in deeply, watches the way Gavin’s eyes darken as they glance down at his lips and then back up and Ryan, Ryan tilts his head up a little, eyes half open as he looks up at Gavin, _Are you going to give me the world? _He asks, his words a soft exhale.

Gavin’s thumb ghosts across his jaw, the soft, cool pad of it catching on his bottom lip and Ryan’s mouth opens as if an offering, the tip of his tongue brushing against Gavin’s skin, catching a hint salt and sea of there.

_Lovely Ryan,_ Gavin speaks, voice sounding strained, _Love, you don’t know what you’re playing with here. _

Ryan closes his eyes the rest of the way, relaxing into Gavin completely, a silent surrender, _I’m yours,_ he speaks softly, resting his hands against Gavin’s sides, feeling the cool, smooth scales, the sharp ridge where their body fades into tail.

_Ryan_, Gavin says, their voice hushed, almost terrified, _Lovely Ryan, aren’t you afraid? _

He pauses, thinks for a moment as he slides one hand around Gavin, palm fanning out against the small of their back, _James,_ he murmurs instead. _My name is James. James Ryan,_ he whispers between them, still lax in Gavin’s arms. _You know my name now, you know who I am. And I you. I’m not afraid of anything_.

Nothing’s said for a while, as if Gavin’s incapable of speaking now, and Ryan almost feels like his admission was _too much_, but then there’s lips against his, cool and gentle, a soft gasp when he kisses back and then, a cool tongue against his own heated one, the scent of salt and ocean and seaweed strong, surrounding him.

They break apart and Ryan gasps for air as Gavin’s other hand comes up, cupping his cheek, fingertips brushing over his lips and when Ryan opens his eyes, Gavin’s staring at him, eyes _glowing_, barely there slit pupils bedded among a shimmering green, _Ryan_, they whisper, voice heavy and musical before they’re closing the distance again, lips slotting together as Ryan’s guided down against the beach; Gavin’s body covering his.

Ryan’s hands find Gavin’s hair, keeping them close as he kisses back, feverish and consuming; he can feel himself react, dormant feelings stirring inside his belly as the kisses taper off into something messy, Gavin’s sharp teeth catching on his lower lip—he gasps, a shuddery sound that has Gavin answering back with a pleased growl of their own.

_James_, Gavin whispers into his mouth, _My beautiful and lovely James,_ they mumble, sounding drunk, far away and Ryan cards his fingers through silky, damp hair, thumbing at the scales along Gavin’s cheek.

_Gavin,_ he murmurs in one breath, _My beautiful and lovely Gavin,_ he repeats the words back at them, brushing his lips over Gavin’s once more. _Where have you been all my life? _

That draws a soft, sharp gasp out of Gavin and when Ryan opens his eyes, he sees Gavin’s sharp grin, _In the water, love,_ they coo, thumbing over Ryan’s bottom lip. _But I’m here now and I’m not going to leave you._

-

_I used to be human, just like you,_ Gavin whispers into the night sky, into Ryan’s shirt where their head is pillowed on his chest. _A long, long time ago. _

Ryan makes an interested noise, _Oh? _He asks, just as soft, cradling the back of Gavin’s head. _What were you like, when you were human? _

It takes a while for Gavin to answer, as if contemplating their reply, but when they do speak, their voice is full of amusement and slightly reminiscent, _I was quite dreadful_. _Incorrigible even, a right ass and completely pompous. _He pauses, _You would have hated me,_ they finally lift their head so they can look down at Ryan.

_I lived a long time ago, many miles away from here, though place and time matter no more to me. _Gavin murmurs, playing with the open strings on Ryan’s shirt. _I was of royal blood, a spoiled thing who longed for adventure, who ended up biting off more than he could chew. _They sigh, wistful, _I had a family name then, but you see, us sirens shed those when we’re created. And though I was born Gavin Free, a prince, I am now just Gavin, a siren who’s doomed to live for eternity. _

Ryan’s silent, cradling the back of Gavin’s head now, his other hand tracing along the ridge of their scales.

_Lovely Ryan,_ Gavin says softly, _Remember how I said that Davy picks apart someone, turns them into their greatest fear? _They ask, continuing when Ryan nods, _You see, my fear? Completely and utterly ridiculous, though, normal for a noble of my time—the fear of being poisoned. _

Gavin pushes themselves up, turning so Ryan can see their back, can see the spines protruding down the center, _I carry a poison inside of me, at any given moment, I could poison someone and easily kill them. Much like my own fear. I’d been turned into the very thing I fear the most. Death. _Their head drops, shoulders drooping, _Y’see, I’m what one would call an agent of death. I’ve killed many people, Lovely Ryan. They say that’s why my song sounds the way it does. It’s the last thing, haunting and terrible, you’d hear before death. Doesn’t lure, just heralds destruction. _

Ryan sits up, reaching out to trace a careful fingertip along one of the spines, _We’ve all killed someone_, he murmurs, voice sad, _Truthfully, I used to be a terrible, terrible man. Ruthless, even._ He manages to pull his hand away as Gavin turns quickly, staring at him, shocked.

He holds his hand up to stop Gavin from speaking, _I was a captain once, years ago when I was much younger than I am now. Loud and brash, looting everyone and everything I could find. I’ve burned cities to the ground all for the name of gold. _

_You…Lovely Ryan,_ Gavin says, their voice low, mystified, _You…but you were being mistreated with your last crew, _they’re quick to say, _I’ve watched you for years now, always going with them, letting them treat you as if you’re lower than the trenches, _they gently cup Ryan’s face in their palms, thumbs drawing slow circles over his cheeks. _You don’t seem the part of a ruthless captain, love._

Ryan smiles, a sort of bittersweet thing, and gently brushes Gavin’s hair from their face, _We are all victims of our nature, _he murmurs back Gavin’s words, _I just chose to rise above mine and become a better version of myself. _

-

_Something’s wrong,_ he thinks, distant as he stares out at the choppy ocean; the clouds are gray and the wind blows something awful, catching bits of driftwood and dragging them across the beach.

Something inside his chest catches and he goes back to his hut only to grab his sword, feeling, for the first time since he’d washed up without a crew, unsafe. He carefully settles himself in a cluster of trees, waiting, silent and diligent, fingers curling around his scabbard—he’s not seen Gavin in days, at this point, heard no sound of their song and not for the first time does he wonder if somethings _happened_.

He’s not sure how long he waits, the sun isn’t visible but its gradually getting darker, whether it be because of the clouds or the setting sun, he’s unsure, his heart thumping almost too loud against his ribs, a steady _thump thump thump _he can hear in his own ears.

Ryan’s mostly watching the water, which is why he almost misses the change in pressure around him, the sudden _whoosh _of a sword behind him—and when he turns, barely able to block it; the sight tears a horrified noise from him.

_Skeleton_ is the only thing he can think of, like a decayed man left somewhere to rot—skin hanging off in places, smelling of incense and seaweed as it swings a rusty sword at him.

He stumbles back, out of his hiding place and into the open, unwilling to let this _thing_ trap him among the grove of trees he’d hidden in—it’s unnaturally slow and strong and Ryan’s arms ache when he stops another swing at him, their swords clashing loudly.

He backs down towards the beach, unsure how he’s supposed to dispose of this _thing_, if he even _can_; his only thought of getting away and finding Gavin as he puts distance between them—can it _swim_?

Luckily (or unluckily maybe, because leaving the island means water and he’s somewhat _wary _of it now), Gavin appears from under the water suddenly, immediately yelling Ryan’s name, a hint of worry and underlying _fear_ in their tone.

He throws himself into the water, uncaring that his clothes are soaking and the current feels as if it’s _pulling him_, only moving towards the safe haven that is Gavin, and only when he feels the deadly dance of barbs against his skin does he feel himself _relax_, a sigh, a half mumbled _Gavin_ falling from his mouth.

Everything goes dark, and the press of cool lips against his is the last thing he feels before he slips unconscious.

-

There’s a sad and low, warbling song echoing around him, drawing him from his slumber, an ache in his head and chest that feel almost too unbearable—but when he moves, just the slightest against the coolness of sand; the song stops and cool hands press against his face.

He doesn’t dare open his eyes, because he knows, _remembers, _a feeling of deja-vu settling over him; lips against his and fingertips at his temple.

_C’mon love, you can open your eyes now._

A sigh leaves him, a weight lifting from his chest as his eyes flutter open; it’s dark now, the moon high above them—he doesn’t dare try to look around, his focus only for Gavin, who looks down at him with something akin to relief on their face.

_Gavin_, Ryan whispers, forcing his hand up to touch their face, drag fingertips down their jaw, thumb at the cluster of scales there, _My love,_ he continues, finally curling his fingers around the back of their neck, drawing them down into a slow, tender kiss.

(It lasts for an indeterminate amount of time, Gavin’s mouth dragging against his slowly, like the two of them have all the time in the world.)

There’s a slight flush to Gavin’s skin as they pull apart, but Ryan doesn’t let them go very far, hand clamped around the back of their neck.

_Where are we? _He finally whispers, afraid to speak any louder, _What happened? _

Gavin’s face is grim yet beautiful, and sharp nails dig into the sand by Ryan’s head, _Davy knows,_ they whisper, voice rough and raw, as if saying the words caused them physical pain. _He bloody well knows and you were almost destroyed because of me._

His memory’s a bit foggy, but he remembers the skeleton on the beach, the fear he’d felt before, something sharp and electric causing every muscle to coil tightly under his skin.

_What are we going to do? _Ryan ask softly, digging his fingers into the meat of the back of Gavin’s neck. _Where can we go so he won’t find us? _

The sad look returns to Gavin’s face, one so reminiscent of the night they’d spoke about their other love, _Oh lovely Ryan,_ they whisper. _There’s nowhere we can go to be away from him. We are doomed to escape from beach to beach—it’s best if,_ Gavin breaks off, takes a deep breath as if steeling themselves, _It’s best if we separate now, if I go back to my nature and you go back to yours. _

Something fearsome and terrible builds up in Ryan then, something he hasn’t felt in _years_, and he drags Gavin closer, _No_, he whispers fiercely, _I am_ not _leaving you now, not when I’ve just found you. _He ignores the pit in his stomach, _I would rather us run for the rest of my life than be separated from you.” _

Gavin laughs, something sad and ugly, _I’m nothing but trouble for you—Davy’ll destroy you one day, I can’t have that happen again, I can’t lose you to that._ They whisper, almost desperate.

Ryan’s face twists into a dark expression, _I am yours and you are mine, we belong to each other, and if Davy Jones wants to try and take you away from me, he’s going to have to try harder than sending skeletons after me._

The sad look is still on Gavin’s face, and sandy, cool fingers trace along his cheek, _He will, my love,_ Gavin whispers softly, brushing their lips to Ryan’s jaw, _He will do everything in his power to separate you and I. _

Ryan breathes out, turning his head and catching Gavin’s lips in a fierce, all encompassing kiss.

_I will not back down so easily,_ He promises, his free hand clutching Gavin’s hip. _I am not to leave your side, love. _He pauses, licks his lips and nudges Gavin’s face until their staring into each other’s eyes, _And I know you don’t wish to part either. _

Gavin’s breath hitches, eyes falling shut as tears well up in their eyes, _I do not,_ they whisper, _Please Ryan, lovely Ryan, don’t leave me. _

Ryan clutches at Gavin, shimmies down into the water until he can better hold them, arms wrapped tight around their body, _I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, you’ve got nothing to worry for. _

A sob escapes their throat, _Davy will not rest until you’re destroyed. _

_Then I hope he’s ready to never sleep again_, Ryan whispers, _Be strong, my love. We will see this storm through. _

Another sob leaves Gavin’s mouth and Ryan just holds them tighter, whispering quiet reassurances into their hair.


End file.
